How Pam and Jim Got Their Groove Back
by pajammies
Summary: Pam and Jim's relationship seems to hit a standstill. Could it be that our favorite couple has lost its spark?
1. Sheets of Egyptian Cotton

It was hard for her to get used to, not having him at the desk beside her. She found herself looking up whenever she had completed a task, just to try to see him. She used to play 'footsie' with him under the tables, and although she wouldn't be looking directly at him, she knew he was smiling. She would always check Yahoo News every hour on the hour, and would update him on events, or on the chronicles of Lindsay Lohan—his favorite train wreck. It was those little things that got her through the day, breaking up the monotony of office life. She could still see him every day, it just was different. She'd have to crane her neck and squint her eyes, tilting slightly to the left, just to see his shoulders through the blinds in his new office. She'd have to forward him the links to the news articles she knew he'd be interested in, and wait impatiently for his response when he got around to checking his e-mail. She knew she should be happy for his promotion, but sometimes she couldn't help but feel it was pulling them apart, exaggerating the distance between their desks and their lives.

She couldn't place her finger on it, what had changed. He was still the same person and she loved him just as much as she did yesterday, and the day before, and the day before. He was still just as sensitive, caring, funny, and loyal. But now he was successful, and she thought that kind of changed things. He stopped joking around with her at work, cut their lunches short, and brought his work home with him, sometimes reading expense reports tucked under the covers beside the light of his lamp, as she would read Pride and Prejudice. When he finished, he'd ask if she was ready to go to sleep, and she'd say yes. He put the documents on his night table, reached for the switch on the lamp, and submerged into the sea of cotton around them. He'd roll over to face her, and looked into her eyes before she shut them.

"Goodnight, Pam," he'd say.

"Goodnight, Jim," she'd reply.

Then he'd roll back around, facing their window instead of her. He thought she wouldn't notice, and that once she closed her eyes she was in a deep sleep, as if she was a newborn child. She always knew though, and she could feel the bed squeak as he tried to get comfortable. She wondered what had changed since they first moved in together, where they would fall asleep nestled together, holding hands, and looking in each other's eyes. They used to fall asleep instantaneously, completely worn out from the amazing sex that they would continue to have (sometimes twice) each and every night. Now they only made love on the weekends. He said he was exhausted from work and needed to be up early in the morning. She felt like a nymph, fantasizing about him all day during work, building up her sexual energy until it could be released on Friday. Sometimes she wished that he would go back to being a salesman, return to his old desk and his old pranks. But as she felt the 800 count Egyptian cotton sheets rub against her leg, she remembered the she liked the financial freedom they had these days, and the family that they were saving up for. She forced her doubts about the new position to the back of her mind, and tried to fall asleep. She couldn't help but remember that it seemed much easier to fall asleep when she had the rhythm of his heartbeat gently lulling her to a calm.


	2. Up at the Crack of Dawn

He had a meeting the next day at 7:30 a.m. He set his alarm for earlier than usual, and as the high-pitched beeping blared through her head, she groggily opened her eyes, processing the bright red lines that came together to form '6:00'.

She thought that no one should ever have to be awoken at this ungodly hour. And since when was he such a beauty queen? It usually only took him 15 minutes to get ready, and another 10 to get into work. He could have slept for another hour.

"Honey, what are you doing up so early?"

"I just want to make sure I'm prepared. Going over some last minute things, ya know? Just go back to sleep sweetie, you don't have to be in for another 3 hours."

"I thought I would go in with you today, sit in on the meeting and take notes, you know, just like old times," She laughed, amused at the fact that she was offering to regress back into her role as secretary.

"Babe, that's ridiculous. You should get your sleep. Plus, only one of us should have to suffer through this meeting. I'll see you when you come in."

"Okay. How am I going to get in if you're taking the car?"

When they first moved in together, they sold both of their cars, or "Pile of Shit" as Jim lovingly nicknamed his. They upgraded to a 2009 Nissan Altima—not the nicest car on the block, but the nicest one they could afford before Jim was promoted. Only having one car had never been a problem until today. They would drive into work together every day, and come home together too. They went _everywhere_ together; Jim even came grocery shopping. He would claim it was because she never knew the right type of bread that he liked (Oat Bran). She knew it, but she liked to mess it up so that he would come back with her each time. He knew that she knew it, but he liked that she would pretend to mess it up because he loved to spend time with her.

"I'm leaving the keys on the counter for you. I'll take the bus."

"Won't you be late if you have to wait for the bus?"

"Well, that's the other reason I'm up so early."

"Okay," she said, with a hint of disappointment in her voice. "I'll see you at 9 then. Good luck."

"Thanks, love," he said as he kissed her forehead. "I'll see you soon. Don't get into any car accidents, okay?"

"Damn, I was planning on driving against oncoming traffic today. Guess I'll have to save that for next week."

She could hear his chuckle as he walked out of their bedroom door, down the stairs to their kitchen where he put on a pot of coffee. She liked that she could still make him laugh, and she knew it was lame but she always felt this little pang of victory in her heart when she saw a smile on his face and knew that she was the reason it was there.

Thirty minutes later, she was still rolling around in the bed trying to find the right spot in the mattress, the right grooves in her pillow, and the right amount of blanket to keep her warm, but not too warm. She couldn't fall back asleep. She picked up her book and started reading, figuring she might as well just stay up until she had to go into work, and maybe spend the extra time she had to get ready to look super nice today. Soon after she dove into the world of Mr. Darcy, she heard the creak of their front door open and shut. She hopped out bed to their window, and watched her husband turn onto the sidewalk in his suit and messenger bag as he headed to the bus stop . She smiled a little, thinking it was cute to watch him on a mission like this. She wondered if he looked so serious when he was a kid, heading to his corner in anticipation of the first day of school. She chuckled at the thought, thinking he was probably the kid that forgot his lunch every day and his mom had to run outside and chase the bus to give him his lunchbox.

She felt slightly guilty that he had to take the bus, and wished she had offered to drop him off at work. But she knew he wouldn't have let her do that. He was always trying to make her life easier, make things best for her, even if it was at his own expense. She liked that about him.

Yet as she found herself appreciating the sacrifice he had made for her, she also wondered why he even had to make it in the first place. He didn't want her to come early. He didn't want her waiting outside the meeting for him, or cheering him on inside. He didn't want to ride into work with her, listening to 102.3 QFM like they always had. Was he really trying to be sweet by letting her use the car, or was he just looking for an excuse to be alone?

Upon much more thought, she deduced that it had to be the first reason. Jim had not even one malicious bone in his body. He was oblivious sometimes, too. She remembered how much he valued his new position, how he didn't want to mess anything up for fear of changing her quality of life and that of their child to come. It wasn't that he was trying to escape her, it was just that he was trying so hard to make things better for her that he seemed distant. And, as she thought even further, he was probably so caught up in all the tasks he assigned for himself, that he didn't even realize he was being distant.

Because if he did know he was being distant, he would try to fix that. Right? Wasn't that the kind of guy he was?


	3. Public Transportation

He found himself squished by the window next to a large woman who was holding her cat in a plastic shopping bag. When he first got on the bus, he took the aisle seat. If he took the window sweat, he knew it would be easier for someone to sit down. With the aisle seat, someone would have to ask him to move over. He thought everyone else on this 6:30 am bus would be too tired to ask such a question. But as he saw the fat cat lady hobble on the bus, he knew that she would ask to sit with him. That was just his luck. Sure enough, as she came down the aisle, she growled at him to move over and plopped down on the aisle seat, with her sides overflowing the barrier that separated them. He edged over closer to the window, in attempts to not let any of her body touch him. He took a deep breath, trying to not let the "stress" of this situation interfere with the proposal for David Wallace that he was practicing over and over in his head. As he inhaled, he could smell only the traces of a Taco Bell breakfast burrito. He didn't want the scent to linger on him for the meeting, so he took out his travel cologne and spritzed himself. He was glad that he had prepared for these sorts of situations the night before, and felt a sense of pride in his ability to foresee. He also had a Tide-To-Go pen, hair gel, and spare change of underwear. Just in case.

The woman took the cat out of its bag and set it on her lap. "How did that thing not just scratch its way out of that bag?" he thought to himself.

"Could you please not spray that around Mr. Princess Flufflekins? He doesn't like the scent."

Jim had to fight back every urge not to laugh. Mr. Princess Flufflekins? How can a cat be both a Mr. _and_ a princess? And why would it need three names? And why would it _ever _need one of those names to be Flufflekins?

"Oh. Okay. I apologize if _I've_ made this ride uncomfortable for you and your cat."

"Thanks," she said, as she stroked the cats head, picking up stray pieces of fur with her fingers and throwing them on the seat. Jim laughed at how this woman was clearly beyond delusional, as she thought he was serious.

He contemplated asking her if she would refrain from grooming her mangy cat all over the seat that they were forced to share. He closed his eyes, trying to meditate, and redirected his anger to humor. He was laughing at the absurdity of this woman, and couldn't wait to tell Pam about it.

Pam.

She was always a soothing thought for him. She helped to calm him, even if she wasn't there. He would just picture her and then suddenly whatever was bothering him, well, it wouldn't bother him anymore. It was actually an amazing relaxation technique. He thought that anyone who had anger issues would be able to control themselves much more if they had someone like Pam in their life.

He remembered how cute she looked this morning when she was sleepy. How cute she looked last night when she was reading. How cute she looked every day at work, even though through his blinds he could only see the top of her head. But he swore it was the cutest top of a head on anyone.

He missed being able to see more than the top of her head at work, but he knew this was for the better. Their desks were farther apart, but they were still closer than ever. The silences between them at night were a mutual understanding of the comfort level they had reached. The sex, when they had it, was as amazing as ever. He knew they didn't do it as often as they had when they first started dating, but he didn't want her to think he was an addict or something.

He remembered how he could hear a sense of disappointment in her voice when he told her that he would be leaving before he today. He thought it was cute how she wanted to cheer him on, but he didn't want her to see him that nervous. He was pretending to be confident and wise in his new position, but he was terrified that he would mess it up and they would go back to barely getting by. He couldn't do that to her, not with a baby on the way.

Still, he didn't want to admit that to her. He knew she would take away all of his worries, telling him how great he was and that they picked him for a reason. But sometimes she thought too highly of him. She held him up to such a pedestal, and he was afraid for her to see that he was really nothing special, and that, if she really wanted to, she could probably do better than him. In fact, he _knew_ she could do better than him; she could find her own rich Mr. Darcy (she always talked about him) and run off to an older man who could afford two cars and maybe even a third, for the weekends.

The thought of her leaving him scared him half to death. He was sure he had nothing to worry about, but still, he wanted spoil her and let her know how much she meant to him. He stepped off the bus and walked the next block to the office, thinking all along about what he could do for her. It wasn't a special occasion or anything, and he wasn't even trying to apologize. He just wanted her to know how much she meant to him, and how happy he was to have her support. He thought of the perfect idea: a new car for her. She could take it when she wanted to go on her shopping trips that she always felt guilty asking him to go on, and it would be a real necessity once the baby came. Not to mention, he would benefit too, as he wouldn't have to take public transportation on mornings like today. He gave himself a mental pat on the back, commending his innovative idea. It was just the last burst of confidence that he needed for his big meeting.


	4. Fine, Just Fine

She drove into work fine that day, just fine. No incidences with oncoming traffic as she had joked, and no squirrel or bird casualties. Everything with the trip was fine. Everything with Jim was fine.

She was still a little early for work, hoping that she would be the first one there to congratulate Jim after the meeting, and also secretly hoping to avoid anyone from work asking her why she only took one car. Oscar would think they got into a fight, and that Pam made Jim walk to work or something. She didn't want people thinking there was anything going on between them. Everything was fine.

She settled into her desk, pulling her coat over the side of her chair and taking out her water bottle for the day. She walked to the bathroom, but really only so she could pass the conference room and give Jim a little smile and a 'thumbs up'. She noticed he was sitting with his back facing the rest of the office, and her head hung a little as she continued onwards to the bathroom. This is stupid, she thought. Why am I sad about what seat he chose?

When she came back from the bathroom, the meeting had already let out and Jim was already in his office. She was about to walk in when his phone rang, and he put up his pointer finger to her, signaling "1 second". She felt awkward standing there, unsure if she should wait outside her husband's office while he was on the phone, or go back to her desk until her husband was ready for her. She felt a voice in the back of her head, probably the voice of her college professor of Women and Society, saying that a woman who waits on her husband is weak. But this wasn't like that at all, she thought. Mrs. Efkin was referring to women who wait _on_ their husbands. She was just waiting _for_ her husband.

She must have stood there for a while, debating her role as a woman and a wife, because she hadn't gotten a chance to decide whether to wait for Jim or sit down before he called her in.

"Hey, Jim," she said, somewhat sheepishly.

"Please. Call me Mr. Halpert," he winked at her.

"Oh, Mr. Halpert," she said, playing into his joke. "I meant to tell you the other day, if you were looking, I know this great 50+ singles bar. It even has a shuffleboard court. Maybe you can find a Mrs. Halpert"

"Wow, sounds great Pam! But Mrs. Halpert isn't a fan of shuffleboard. Do they have a watercolor station?"

"Yes. Right next to the Bingo Room."

They both started laughing. She felt comfortable again, joking around with each other so informally. He reached over for her hand and held it, fingers laced with hers. He lifted his own hand up, and directed her to come closer to him. She got up and walked around his desk, standing next to him now.

"Okay, close your eyes," he said to her.

"I don't know if I want to…" she said, laughing and complying anyway.

She heard his fingers typing on a keyboard and the clicks of his mouse.

"Okay, open them!"

She looked at his computer screen, adorned with pictures of Saab marketing. In the center, her eyes were drawn to a silver SUV type car, with a description of each feature he had hand selected for her.

"Oh my god."

"I hope you're not insulted that I got the built in GPS. But you know how I feel about you driving with just a print out of MapQuest directions. Plus now you won't have to call me if you get lost!"

Was he annoyed that she called him when she was lost? She loved to here the comfort of his voice when she didn't know where she was going—on the road _and_ in life.

She remained silent, her mouth pursing into a small "o"

"Well…do you like it?"

"Did you buy it?"

"Yeah. You don't like it?"

"It's amazing. I just wish you consulted me before you sold the Altima."

"I'm not selling the Altima."

"What? How can we afford this?"

"Pam, we don't have to worry about affording things anymore. You don't like it, do you."

"I said it was amazing. I'm just shocked is all."

Jim hoped that it was the good kind of shocked.

"We're going to pick it up from the dealership after work tomorrow. Then you can be driving it by the weekend! I thought it would be great family car for when the baby comes. It has child proof windows and locks and tinted screens so the sun doesn't hurt their eyes."

Pam admired how much thought he had put into it, picking out every last detail down to the trim. But she wondered how much he really enjoyed his solo commute in to work, enough so to make him want to do it more often. She was saddened by the fact that they wouldn't do everything together now, that this car was going to make them both more independent. She knew that was supposed to be a good thing, but she was going to miss how they couldn't do things without each other.

"Can we still drive to work together each day?"

"Of course," Jim looked at her, wondering why she would even ask such a thing.

"Well then… I love it!" She squealed. She _did_ love it, it was a dream car. She just didn't love what might come from it.

"I haven't even told you the best part," he said.

"What could be better?" she asked, even though she already knew that a lot of things about this car situation could be better, like maybe if Jim had asked before he just did something like this. It reminded her of when he bought their house. He was always trying to surprise her, and she admitted it was really sweet, but she wished he included her on these types of big decisions.

"I got satellite radio so we can listen to Howard Stern," he told her. "I know how much you've missed him since he went to satellite. We can listen every morning now."

She looked at him lovingly, happy to know that her husband remembered these little nuances about her. She bent down to give him a kiss, and told him she loved him.

"Hey now," he said, "No sexual harassment in the work place."

"Sorry Mr. Halpert," she said, in a mocking tone. "I won't do it again."

"Oh but you will. Tonight."


	5. Countdown to 5:00

He ordered the veal parmesan, as always, and she got linguini with clam sauce. They got glasses of Cabernet, not the bottle, because they didn't want to drink that much. They shared the bread basket, and Jim saved the last garlic knot for her. They had a great time, laughing and talking about nothing and everything, and Pam felt foolish for ever thinking they had grown apart. He opened the car door for her on the way home, and let her go in first as he twisted the key in the keyhole of 14 Flatbush Drive, ironic because the bushes were anything but flat.

It was about 8:00 pm when they finally got home, and both went straight up to the stairs to the bedroom. He changed into his lounge clothes, while she put on a black slip—not blatantly sexy, but cute at the very least. She wanted him to notice the new nightie, or maybe the new leg workouts she had been doing that were toning her calves. She wanted him to notice her standing there, waiting for him, anxious to follow up on his promise from earlier in the day. He didn't look twice though, he just collapsed in to their bed on his usual side, pulling up his messenger bag with him and turning on the lamp. She decided to give up on her little seduction act, and curled up next to him, twirling his finger on his chest.

"You know, Jim, most people sleep with a teddy bear, not a satchel."

"But…it's so cuddly!"

She laughed, and threw it across the room as she nibbled at his ear.

"Pam, I love you, you're beautiful, but I can't do this tonight. I told you I needed to finish those expense reports."

She backed off him and threw herself against the pillow in frustration, picking up her book and hastily opening up to the page where she had left off.

"You know," he said, "I could get this done in half the time if you helped me out."

"Why should I do that?"

"Because then we could get to more … exciting things."

He assumed she said yes, and split the pile of papers in half, sending the first batch her way. She looked at it, completely dumbfounded by the numbers that had no meaning to her and the business jargon that seemed to say nothing. She had planned on helping, but she lost interest in the whole thing, sex included, once she saw those numbers. She threw the pile back on his lap.

"Ugh. Pam…"

"No work harassment in the sexual place," she said defiantly, as she rolled over and turned off her lamp.


	6. Cant You See Me Standing Here?

He ordered the veal parmesan, as always, and she got linguini with clam sauce. They got glasses of Cabernet, not the bottle, because they didn't want to drink that much. They shared the bread basket, and Jim saved the last garlic knot for her. They had a great time, laughing and talking about nothing and everything, and Pam felt foolish for ever thinking they had grown apart. He opened the car door for her on the way home, and let her go in first as he twisted the key in the keyhole of 14 Flatbush Drive, ironic because the bushes were anything but flat.

It was about 8:00 pm when they finally got home, and both went straight up to the stairs to the bedroom. He changed into his lounge clothes, while she put on a black slip—not blatantly sexy, but cute at the very least. She wanted him to notice the new nightie, or maybe the new leg workouts she had been doing that were toning her calves. She wanted him to notice her standing there, waiting for him, anxious to follow up on his promise from earlier in the day. He didn't look twice though, he just collapsed in to their bed on his usual side, pulling up his messenger bag with him and turning on the lamp. She decided to give up on her little seduction act, and curled up next to him, twirling his finger on his chest.

"You know, Jim, most people sleep with a teddy bear, not a satchel."

"But…it's so cuddly!"

She laughed, and threw it across the room as she nibbled at his ear.

"Pam, I love you, you're beautiful, but I can't do this tonight. I told you I needed to finish those expense reports."

She backed off him and threw herself against the pillow in frustration, picking up her book and hastily opening up to the page where she had left off.

"You know," he said, "I could get this done in half the time if you helped me out."

"Why should I do that?"

"Because then we could get to more … exciting things."

He assumed she said yes, and split the pile of papers in half, sending the first batch her way. She looked at it, completely dumbfounded by the numbers that had no meaning to her and the business jargon that seemed to say nothing. She had planned on helping, but she lost interest in the whole thing, sex included, once she saw those numbers. She threw the pile back on his lap.

"Ugh. Pam…"

"No work harassment in the sexual place," she said defiantly, as she rolled over and turned off her lamp.


	7. A Girl Can Learn a Lot on Google

The next morning, they both woke up at the regular time, and began their regular regime of getting dressed, brushing their teeth next to each other, and walking down the stairs, Jim first, in case Pam fell, to drink their coffee. Neither wanted to mention last night; of promises unfulfilled and Pam's humiliation of throwing herself at her husband only to be rejected in favor of expense reports.

It was Wednesday, she thought. Only two more days until Friday. Two more days until her husband chooses her over work, talking over calculating, making love over filing expense reports. They drove into work together, as Jim babbled on about how the drive would be so much better tomorrow when they could listen to commercial free radio and Howard Stern, plus have a GPS in case they got lost on the 10 minute ride to the office they had been working at for the past six years.

She was silent for most of the ride, just nodding and agreeing with what he said. He knew something was wrong, and he really did feel bad about last night. But he told her before they even left the office that he needed to get those things done. He thought she would understand that his new promotion came with new responsibilities that he just couldn't ignore. Still, he didn't want to irritate her by starting a fight, so he decided to play the role of overbearing husband, holding her hand as they walked into the office, bringing her more coffee once they got there, and pulling her chair out from her desk before she sat down. He kissed her head before he went to his office, told her he loved her and couldn't wait to get out of here and get that new car.

The day passed slowly, much slower than yesterday had. Then again, it was Wednesday, and Wednesdays were always the worst. Mondays were okay because they were always busy, getting back into the swing of things, there was much to be done. Tuesday was okay because she was still in the work mode, finishing off things from Monday and eagerly starting new projects. Wednesday was long. It was the halfway point, sure, but there she had lost her weekly work steam and there wasn't any pressing work to attend to. Thursdays were tolerable because she had client meetings, plus it meant only one more day until Friday. And Friday was- well, it was Friday- meaning it was all over for the next 48 or so hours.

She didn't feel quite the same urgency as she had yesterday to look at the clock. There was nothing to look forward to; all that would happen at 5:00 was that they would go pick up the new car, Jim would try to haggle with the salesman, and they would pick up Chinese food on the way home, eat it over a glass of Root beer, and fall asleep to the T.V, flipping between the American Idol results show and old reruns of Seinfeld.

She decided to pass the time by Googling random facts. She thought of her Egg McMuffin yesterday, and the stickers that came on the box: Monopoly pieces. She almost threw them out until she saw the tagline of "WIN A MILLION DOLLARS" and she became intrigued. She wondered if anyone had ever actually won, so she googled it. Apparently, people had actually won. Then she found herself looking up strange vacations, and became fascinated at the prospect of Hershey Park's Chocolate Spa, which offered cocoa baths and chocolate pedicures. She didn't believe that anyone ever actually paid for that kind of stuff, but she found herself inquiring about availability anyway, thinking it would be a really funny vacation for her and her husband to tell their children.

She started thinking about her husband, and how things…just seemed off. She had kept reassuring herself lately that nothing was wrong, she was just in a funk, and he was as loveable as ever. But after yesterday, she felt dejected and confused. There was definitely a rift, or something, between them. Why else wouldn't he want to have sex with her?

So she Googled her situation, typing in prompts such as "My husband loves his job more than me" or "why won't my husband have sex with me?" Some of the results were vulgar, and she had to quickly exit the screen before Dwight caught her. But then she found the perfect Cosmo article, as if God himself had written it for her.

"_What to do when your relationship goes stale"_

_Is your guy acting weird lately? Do you feel like things have changed since those first hot, sexy, steamy dates? Has he been avoiding you, clamming up at the first sense of serious discussion, denying sex, or channeling all his energy into work? Here's some tips to bring him back_.

She was instantly captivated, and tried to remember why she ever canceled her Cosmo subscription. Everything the article said seemed to pertain to her situation. She printed it out, that way she could read it in the bathroom without everyone knowing. As she pressed print, she grabbed a highlighter and headed with the article to the stall.

She highlighted all the important things she thought she could try to make things better. She thought she was acting a little neurotic; taking notes and highlighting a Cosmo article about a stale relationship in the bathroom stall of her office while her husband was a mere 30 feet away. But she kept reading on anyway, embracing everything the writer had said.

_If your guy is a workaholic, you should first take a step back and try to realize why he's working so hard. Is he at his dream job?_

No, she thought. Definitely not.

_If he's finally doing what he wants, he might be trying to get the most out of the career he's worked so hard for. Maybe he's trying to prove himself for a promotion._

Well, he just got his promotion. He can't be trying to get another one. But maybe he's trying to prove he deserved it? She read on.

_If he doesn't have a passion for his work, but seems to be spending all his time there anyway, analyze the reasons why. Does he have long-term financial commitments? Is he saving up for a new house, a family, or a car? Does he have a sick family member? Many times, a woman's husband will work his heart out to provide a comfortable lifestyle for his lady. As women, we tend to feel brushed off by the lack of attention we get, but it is important to remember that he's doing this all for us in the first place_.

Hmm, she thought. That makes sense. He always talks about the family, and he just bought that new car. Yeah, she thought. This was definitely it. So there was her answer—why he was spending so much time at work. He wanted to show that he could do it, that he could be more than a salesman. He wanted to make more money for her, for their future child, and for their future life. She accepted all of this, but still wanted to know how to bring their sparks back. The next couple of paragraphs didn't apply to her as much, she knew Jim had no problem opening up to her about commitment issues or his feelings. The next headline caught her eye. She was particularly excited for the next section, starring and outlining the entire paragraph.

_**Getting Your Guy to do some Real Good Work in the Bedroom**_

_Sometimes your guy will come home and be too spent to want to do any of the good stuff. Women will often think this is because of them, that they aren't as good as they used to be or that they have gained some weight. Ladies, it's not us. Studies have shown that when men come home from over 10 hours of work, 8 out of 10 times they prefer sleep to sex. They don't want to have to put in the energy to get you ready, when they just used most of their energy trying to get that proposal to go through. This is where the spice comes in. Greet your guy at the door, wearing just one of his blouses, your panties, and his tie loose around your neck. Tussle your hair and spread it over your shoulders. Unbutton his blouse to a deep V-Neck, letting only the last two or three buttons to remain. Make up some dirty talk about how you're the only work that he's going to do tonight. Guys love the sexy secretary role play. He'll go gaga at the sight._

That's genius, she thought. She wondered if it would have the same effect on him as the article promised—he had already 'done' the real secretary numerous times, and the novelty of that had probably worn off. Then again, she had never dressed up like that.

She folded the article into little squares and slipped it into her cardigan pocket. She thought about which tie of his she'd wear, and which blouse would look best with his favorite red panties. He mostly wore only light blue, and that would look horrible. But he had that one nice white one, which she thought would work. She pictured the outfit in her head, smiling with anticipation. She liked the idea of surprising him like that, and thought that the new car would actually come in handy when she wanted to secretly buy a different sexy costume. The whole prospect excited her, and she tried to think of a way to make it all work tonight. They'd be coming home in two separate cars, after they picked up the Saab, but she wouldn't have enough time to put everything together between the time she pulled in the driveway with the new Saab and he pulled in with the old Altima.

She thought about the events that would lead up to that evening—what they would do when they got to the dealership, what they would eat for dinner, and who would wash the dishes. That's it! She thought to herself. They'd have pizza for dinner. He could pick it up, and she would tell him that she'd stay behind to prepare the salad and sauté some garlic. It bought her about 10 minutes to get everything ready. She had worked out everything, and by the time she had all her plans finalized, she realized it was 5:05 and Jim was walking out to her desk to meet her.

"What, you don't come marching into my office at exactly 5:00 anymore?"

"Sorry, I was uh… really caught up in this sale." 

"Aw, my little workaholic. C'mon, let's go reward you with a new car."

They walked out together, discussing their day as they drove to the dealership. She couldn't really remember much about the conversation, or talking with the car salesman, all she could think about was the night they were going to (hopefully…no, definitely) going to have. She realized she forgot to confirm with him that it would be a Pizza night.

"So as you can see, the car is designed so that if you back up too close to a ga-"

"Jim, can we have pizza tonight?"

He laughed at her interruption.

"Sure, sweetie. I can see you're really interested in these car features."

"I just had an intense craving."

"Okay, wanna call for it now and we can pick it up on the way home?"

"No. I'm not hungry yet. Let's call for it around 7."

"Okay."

The salesman looked frustrated at the interruption, and Pam waved him on to continue his lecture. She didn't pay attention to any of it, she just admired the car, touching the smooth exterior and smelling the fresh scent of new leather.

"Okay, you're all set," said the salesman, as he handed Pam the keys. She smiled, and hopped up and down a little bit, as she inquired about a vanity plate.

"It will be about 50 dollars extra. What would you want it to say?"

"Do you think they could fit Mr. Princess Flufflekins on one plate?"

Before the salesman could answer, Jim burst out laughing.

"Let's go. You drive the new one. Just don't try that oncoming traffic thing that you wanted to yesterday."

By the time they got home, it was already 6:30. She didn't want to wait until 7, so she just asked him to order the pizzas now.

"So let me get this straight—you weren't hungry 20 minutes ago, but now you are?"

"You got it."

"You are something, Pamela."

"Oh, you don't even know."

They ordered one pie, with sausage and broccoli. As she heard Jim back out of the driveway, she ran upstairs and began her mission.


	8. Lets Bang Out These Expense Reports

She took her hair out of the pony that it had been stuck in all day, setting it free and flipping it up and down to give it volume. She quickly ripped off her work clothes, throwing them in a pile in her closet. She didn't have time to put them away. She grabbed her favorite red panties and slipped them on hastily, simultaneously grabbing her highest high heels out of her closet and threw them into the middle of the room. She walked over to his closet, spotted the white blouse target, and yanked it off the hanger as she slipped it over her braless chest, unbuttoning it down all the way to the last two, throwing a tie around her neck and letting it sit in between her subtle cleavage. She stepped into the high heels, and hobbled into the bathroom to put on red lipstick and admire the ensemble.

She felt slightly awkward looking at herself like this, standing there wearing nothing but panties and a men's shirt that barely covered her nipples. She knew she looked hot though, and was proud at what she could throw together in what felt like 45 seconds. She finished the last touches of her hair, and stepped out of the bathroom to their bed where she found his messenger bag. She reached into it, grabbing out a pile of expense reports and a pen. She carefully trekked down the stairs, to the front door, where she stood there with paperwork in hand, looking out the peephole to see when their car would approach.

She wondered if she should sit down while she waited, maybe the workers at the pizza place messed up their order and it would be a while. She saw a silver SUV drive past, and sighed because she was getting anxious. She was about to sit down when she remembered that was their new car, and this was probably him. She back away a couple steps from the doorway, and leaned one hand against the wall as she kicked one leg out in front of the other, tilting her foot slightly to the side, clutching the expense reports to her chest so tightly that they pressed against her right breast and gave it a lift. She heard the door handle twisting, and knew it was about to be on.

The door opened slightly, and Jim was instinctively looking down as he put his keys back in his pocket. He didn't hear her or see her there yet.

"Hey baby," she said in her sultriest voice. "Wanna help me bang out these expense reports?"

He looked up in shock, completely paralyzed by the sight in front of him. He wasn't saying anything, but the look in eyes said it all.

"Or do you just wanna bang out something else," she said suggestively with a smile.

He dropped the pizza; literally dropped the entire box on the floor as he took two big steps toward her and planted a hard, wet kiss on her ready lips. He pulled away about a minute later.

"Oh…my…god."

"You like?"

"I … I … love."

She unbuttoned the remaining two buttons of the blouse, so that it was just loosely hanging on her, anchored to her body only by the way it stuck to her nipples, which Jim could see were getting hard right through her shirt.

He grabbed her by her tie (his tie) and pulled her even farther into him. She could feel his cock stiffen, hard as a baseball bat already, and she dropped the expense reports to the floor. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, as she kissed his nape of his neck gently, slowly moving to his chest. He moaned feverishly, and threw her on the bed as he towered over her, crouching now on all fours, kissing her deeper and deeper. He parted what remained of his blouse from her arms, not that it was hiding much anyway. She was left wearing only her panties, high heels, and a tie. He left a trail of kisses from her neck to shoulders, as he made his way towards her breast, the left one first, taking her in and swirling his tongue around her hard nipple, not ignoring the other one as he fiddled it with his thumb. She sighed and arched her back, her body yearning for more, yearning for all of him. She ripper off his shirt and unbuckled his pants, grabbing his hard cock from his underwear as he wiggled out of it. Soon he was completely naked, and taking off her panties, while inserting his long fingers into her, looking for the spot that he knew she loved. She writhed with pleasure, kicking her shoes off as her whole body ached for more.

She pushed him over, letting him lie face up on the bed as his cock stood straight up in all of its length, waiting for her to do something with it. She wrapped the end of the tie around her hand and started rubbing him, hoping that he would enjoy the sensation of the silk against his rock hard cock. By the way he shut his eyes in a grimace, yelling and screaming for mercy, it was clear that he did.

He was close, but he wasn't going to let himself go that easily and quite frankly neither was she. She climbed on top of him and let his dick slip into her as she rode it back and forth, up and down, throwing her head back and swiveling her hips. His hands found her way to her breasts, holding them as she bounced, each time they thudded back into his hands, he seemed to get even harder, if that was possible. He slid his hands down to her hips, holding her down and setting her rhythm. She moved them back up to her bouncing breasts, and guided his fingers towards her nipples.

"I'm the boss today," she grunted, as she rode him even faster without the guidance of his hands. She glued her hands to his chest, as her breasts swayed in front of his face. He was on the edge, and she was just about there too.

She pulled him out of her, and started to lick him instead, tasting herself on him but not caring.

"Oh god, Pam, Pam, I'm too close, I'm going to…"

She kept licking him, and lifted her breasts to his cock, letting it sit between them as she continued to lick him.

"Mmm, your cock feels so nice on my tits"

"P…P…pam….just fuck me… I need you to finish… I cant hold out much lunger…"

She got back on him and took him in deeper than she ever had before, screaming with each time he thrust into her, thinking that he had never been this deep. She had been trying hard to refrain from coming until this point—she wanted to show him everything she could do, but she couldn't take it any longer and neither could she. She screamed his name in between moans and sighs, and he continued thrusting until the ocean of her orgasm flooded over her entire body, shaking her from within. She pulled off and finished him off while he was in between her chest, letting him come all over her full, slightly sweaty breasts and subsequently his tie. He groaned with delight, and kissed her on the lips softly. The kiss reverberated through both of them, feeling it in their deepest core, as the power of the fuck rendered them both completely helpless to anyone's touch.

She laid next to him, still naked and still wearing the tie, as they both flattened themselves out like freshly cooked gingerbread men, with hands overlapping. She took the tie off and handed it to him.

"Here, maybe you should wear this to work tomorrow."

He laughed and said, "Thanks. I will actually."

She gasped a little. "I was kidding. That has to smell…well, pretty suspicious."

"I don't care. I'll probably wear this thing for the next six fucking weeks."

She laughed, and as she caught her breath, she said "I love you so much, honey."

"I love you more," he said, as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I love you so much it scares me."

Pam smiled as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, nestled in the nook of his arm and chest. It was only a Wednesday night, but they made love. In more ways than one.


End file.
